


It Can Stay

by Johniarty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Holidays, M/M, Mustache, Porn, Rimming, johniarty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, Jim's a little leery of John's new shaving style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Can Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This was purely crack. Watsonporn's been looking for some 'stache action, and I used that as an excuse to write a little Johniarty mustache/Thanksgiving story. It's... pretty much just pure porn.

"John, will you just get rid of that thing? Please, for the holiday? It’s so… I don’t know, stereotypically ‘Daddy’ of you. After all, love, that’s  _my_ thing…”

Jim hated it, John could tell. Ever since he’d gotten back from from his latest ‘business trip’ (as John forced himself to think of them; it sounded better than ‘multi-million pound illicit dealings’), he’d been making quips about how absolutely ridiculous he found his mustache. 

 _I’ll show him he likes it,_ John thought as he flashed the Irishman a small smile. “Yes, and it’s  _still_ your thing. Do you really feel upstaged by a bit of facial hair?” He slipped an arm around Jim’s waist and lowered his head to his throat. “Jim… Maybe tonight you should let me change your mind. I could, you know. I could drive you wild with it, until you begged me not to shave…”

A shivered worked its way down the slender man’s spine. “Ooh… You’re all talk, Johnny Boy. I’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is.”  _A challenge? God, I love those. You’re on, Mr. Moriarty._

It was easy, really, hoisting Jim onto the dining room table, in a spot thankfully devoid of dishes. The doctor occupied himself with nipping at Jim’s ear as his hands slid down to remove his trousers. Though he was obviously surprised, he didn’t resist. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you, Jim?” John whispered, his lips brushing Jim’s ear. Jim shook his head.

"I’m going to throw your legs over my shoulders and eat that beautiful arse of yours."

His voice was a low, soft growl, his hair tickling the curve of Jim’s ear as warm breath ghosted against his skin. To his delight, John saw gooseflesh crawling over Jim’s arms.

"I-Is that so, Doctor Watson?"

He moved quickly, grabbing Jim’s thighs and pulling him down to the edge of the table. “Yes, Jim. It is.” He grinned coyly before dropping to his knees and and spreading Jim’s muscular cheeks. John licked a slow, steady stripe up his cleft, chuckling at the soft moan slipping from Jim’s throat. He pressed his nose against the sensitive skin of his taint as he slid his tongue against his hole. 

"J-Johnny…"

Jim threaded a hand through his hair and tugged, urging him to continue. John began to whirl his tongue in slow, lazy circles, his head shifting from side to side. As his nose rubbed against him, so did the short hairs of his mustache, scratching just slightly against him as his tongue opened him.

"Oh, fuck!" Jim rocked his hips forward, pressing more tightly against John’s face. His thighs tightened around the doctor’s shoulders as he picked up his pace. John groaned at the taste of him.  _Eager, aren’t you, Mr. Moriarty? So desperate…_

He kneaded the meat of Jim’s arse as he pressed his tongue into him, sucking lightly at his muscle while the man let out a needy whine. “Johnny,” he panted, pulling harder on his hair. “Oh, fuck… All those years of eating pussy really helped, didn’t they? Don’t you  _dare_  fucking stop, Johnny.” John loved it when he talked to him like that- it meant he was trying to keep control, to stay in charge, which in turn meant that John was driving him absolutely mad. He managed a smile as he fucked him with his mouth, licking and moaning and pressing as deeply as he could with his tongue. His face was wet, from his chin to his mustache, slick with saliva as he rubbed his face a little quicker. Jim was bucking against his face, desperate for more as John reached up and began to stroke his cock. 

"O-oh, you little… fuck, yes!" John’s arm moved faster while he thrust harder, the rounded tip of his nose massaging Jim’s perineum as he ate his arse. "Johnny! Harder, please!" He was more than happy to oblige. Plates and dishes rattled on the wooden table as John continued to pleasure him.

Skin raw from the scratch of his mustache, writhing against his mouth, Jim couldn’t hold back. “Johnny!” He came with a scream of his name, trembling and moaning as he spilled onto his shirt. John pulled back, face messy, lips quirked in a cocky smile. “I told you,” he breathed. “I told you you’d like it.” He moved to grab a napkin, but a hand on his arm gave him pause.

"It can stay, John." Jim kissed him, hard, nuzzling against his damp skin. "And tonight, when everyone goes home… we’re trying something else."

"Mmn, what?"

"You’re going to suck my cock." He kissed John’s thick mustache with a chuckle. "And if you’re very, very good at it, I’ll let you come."


End file.
